


Ego Trip

by jameee25



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Double Vaginal Penetration, M/M, Oral Sex, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sibling Incest, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-31 14:32:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6474139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jameee25/pseuds/jameee25
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam was never much into exhibitionism. </p>
<p>These things tend to change once you’ve started fucking your own brother on a regular basis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ego Trip

**Author's Note:**

> This might me a threesome fic, but it is also, first and formost, a wincest fic. Just goving you the heads up. This is also the filthiest thing I've ever written in my life.
> 
> Piles of gratitude and tons of hugs to my beautiful beta, @anotherwinchesterfangirl, who beat this thing into shape. I owe you one babe!
> 
> I live off comments and kudos. 
> 
> Feel free to come chat with me anytime on tumblr (I'm clearlylostmymind.tumblr.com)
> 
> Enjoy!

 

Sam’s POV

 

Sam was never much into exhibitionism. He never fantasized about sex in public or in front of an audience. Sam was never much into a lot of kinky shit.

 

These things tend to change once you’ve started fucking your own brother on a regular basis.

 

Dean is one sick, sexy, perverted bastard, who wraps his should-be-illegal lips around the head of Sam’s cock, sucking at the precome that’s been oozing from it, and Sam forgets all about his complaints. Or about the fact that there is a girl in the room with them. His eyes slide shut almost automatically, and a moan escapes his lips before he can control it.

 

He is sitting on the bed, legs spread wide, so wide- _do whatever you want with me, Dean_ -hands gripping the edge of the mattress, fingers entwined in the ratty motel sheets. Dean is humming blissfully around his dick, the vibration only amplifying the sensation. His brother’s lips slide around the moist, hot skin, stretched around Sam’s impressive girth in a way that looks almost painful, but Sam isn’t worried. Dean is an expert; he is used to being stretched by his brother’s cock. He loves it.

 

“Holy shit.” He can hear the girl’s breath hitch somewhere to his right, and Sam can’t help but turn his head to look at her. Her eyes are open wide, blush creeping up her cheeks, legs pressed tightly together, shaking. Dean notices it as well, and he slides all the way back up, pulling his lips so obscenely that Sam feels like his cock grew another inch.

 

“You like it baby?” he asks, voice hoarse, abused, and Sam hates it when Dean uses that nickname with anyone but him. “You like watching me suck my brother’s big dick?”

 

And that, right there, is a little sick. It is one thing to be involved in a homosexual-incestuous relationship and another thing altogether to try and turn on girls with that knowledge. Not that Dean gives a shit. In Dean Winchester’s book, every day in which he can successfully make a girl wet her panties with a mere sentence is a good day.

 

Dean has a lot of good days.

 

“Fuck,” she half moans. Funny thing, that is _exactly_ what Sam is thinking about. “Yes,” she finally manages in a way that sounds more like a moan than an actual word. It hits Sam then: he has no idea what her name is or how she ended up in their motel room.

 

She was talking to Dean at the bar, and Sam saw his older brother gesture toward Sam and wink, so Sam assumed—he can’t remember what exactly, and he is far too drunk and horny to care—that all he wanted was for Dean to shove him into the closest room available and suck his dick until he lost consciousness. Well, that happened. As soon as they got to the motel room Dean pushed Sam onto the bed, stripped off his own shirt and Sam’s jeans, sank down to his knees, pulled out Sam’s dick with impressive speed (Sam always thought that Dean would perform impeccably with an audience), and took him in his mouth. Sam forgot all about the extra presence in their room.

 

Forgot all about her until now. He looks at the girl and _oh, she’s enjoying it_. _A lot._ She’s probably _dripping_ down there, her pussy so wet that Sam could shove two of his long long fingers into her and she wouldn’t even feel the stretch. And if he ever knew his brother at all, he knows Dean has just the same thing in mind.

 

And _that_ turns him on even more.

 

“Dean—” His fingers are searching for his brother’s hair, traveling over the exposed ridges of his muscular arms and shoulders, then moving up to his nape, tugging at the short strands, and Dean can’t do anything but open his mouth again and take Sam’s dick between his swollen lips. “God, yeah, just like that,” Sam moans, perhaps a bit louder than usual. The girl, X- something Sam recalls vaguely, is staring at Dean going down on his own brother like it is the best show in town. _Knowing Dean it probably is._

 

Dean’s palms are resting on Sam’s inner thighs, spreading him wider, so Dean can take him even deeper into his mouth, and Sam remembers the first time he did this, recalls how Dean gagged and choked around his dick, eyes teary, and still refused to give up, how he told Sam to fucking help him. Now Dean is practically a professional,though Sam still helps him a little.

 

He is fucking his brother’s mouth, eyes locked with the girls, thrusting his hips forward, pushing his rock-hard cock deep, so deep that he can feel Dean’s gag reflex at the tip. He doesn’t stop. It feels so good like this, when they aren’t the only ones in the room, to have another person there to see how much Sam enjoys it.

 

He’s biting his lips, his orgasm slowly building in the pit of his stomach, but when he feels his balls tighten, he stops moving, pulling Dean by the hair, away from his dick and up to his mouth, biting his brother’s full bottom lip in a hot kiss and licking the taste of his own precome from Dean’s warm tongue.

 

“She only here to watch?” he asks Dean, who takes a large gasp of air as soon as he’s given the chance, exhaling hot puffs against Sam’s slightly open mouth.

 

“Where are your manners, baby?” Dean is wearing his smug smile now, the one that makes his lips look so much better after being stretched by Sam’s cock. “You need to learn how to share, Sammy,” he says, and leans down to lick Sam’s earlobe, biting it lightly.

 

Sam is moaning in response, thrusting his hips up, looking for friction, and his dick rubs against Dean’s denim clad erection. He reaches out to open the belt, but Dean is holding his wrist, pushing him back to his spot on the bed, and Sam is completely at his mercy now. And it’s really not fair because Dean is rubbing against him with long, slow movements, which drives Sam out of his mind. “I really do need to school you.” Dean makes his point by grabbing at Sam’s butt, and kissing him lightly before he turns completely and walks towards the girl.

 

He calls her baby again, asks for her name. “Y/N,” she answers, voice trembling around the edges.

 

“Wanna join us?” asks Dean, full on teasing mode now, and his voice sounds deep and rough, making Sam’s throbbing dick twitch painfully. “Do you want her to join us, Sammy?”

 

“Yes,” he moans, holding the base of his dick when he watches his brother stand behind her, wrapping his arms (that look _so big_ all of a sudden) around her hips and lowering his head to suck at her shoulder. Dean’s hands slide under her shirt, exposing smooth skin, and Sam wants to touch her, wants to put his hands alongside Dean’s and make this girl theirs.

 

And that, he thinks, that is the really twisted part about all this. There must be something totally backwards with you if you don’t ever look at girls until you see your big brother touch them, that you don’t ever think about fucking girls until your big brother fucks them, unless you get to have them _with_ your brother. Sam’s always liked to watch Dean with girls. True, he has a massive possessive streak, but watching Dean kissing, fucking, licking—and knowing that’s his, he gets to have that all time all the time—that turns Sam on like nothing else. Dean is better than porn, but Sam’s not surprised. Dean has always been better than anything else in his life, better than anything else in the world.

 

Just then, said older brother starts undoing the buttons on the girl’s blouse, exposing more skin. He slides the blouse off her shoulders, and it drops to the floor just as Dean begins to kiss her—all open mouths and exploring tongues—exactly how he kisses Sam. And Sam is jealous. Dean is the only one who makes Sam’s insides curl with possessiveness, and Sam knows he can be one green-eyed bitch, but this time something pushes at his jealously, makes it dissolve almost completely. Dean’s eyes are locked on his, and somewhere, in Sam’s twisted, horny mind, he knows that he has nothing to worry about. He knows that this girl belongs to both of them. Sam and Dean don’t belong to her though. Sam and Dean are each other’s. For good.

 

Dean moans then. “Sam, Sammy.” Dean looks at him and laughs, a predatory laugh, eyes like a mad man. “You don’t understand, you don’t know how wet she is for both of us.”

 

Sam, shaking in his trance-like state, suddenly looks at them, really looks at them, and he notices the open zipper of her jeans, Dean’s large and familiar hand inside her panties. He catches the movement of his brother’s fingers, and he knows that feeling, the wet-soggy warmness. He remembers the first time his own fingers were inside Dean, remembers how overwhelmed he was from the fact Dean actually let him do it. He never intended to fuck Dean that night, both of them preferring Sam to bottom, but his fingers made his brother so impatient that he pushed Sam down on the bed and rode him so hard and fast that Sam came in less than a minute. He would choose that over any other girl in the world. He would always choose Dean over any other thing in the world, no question about it.

 

“Fuck,” Sam whispers, surprised at his new-found courage—Dean is usually the one in charge of the dirty talk. “Wet from just thinking about my dick? About my brother’s dick?”

 

“Yes,” she says, and Dean smiles. The girl is squirming in his hands, but Dean’s holding her in place, not letting her fall. His hand is moving faster now, and Sam wants to _see_. Sam wants to lick her pussy and then his brother’s fingers, still covered in her juices.

 

“Do you want it baby? You think you can handle both of us?” he asks.

 

_Shit. Shit, shit shit._ He needs to stop touching himself or he’ll shoot all over the bed before the whole thing’s even started. The girl is panting like she’s just finished a marathon, tilting her head back so it rolls over Dean’s shoulder.

 

“Yes, please…” she moans.

 

Dean smiles like a hyena then, and Sam can almost predict the filth that’s about to spill from his brother’s lips. “Look at my Sammy over here, with his dick up, just waiting for you to sit on him. You won’t realize how big he is until you take him in, fucking tear up your cunt.”

 

He slides his fingers from inside her, smearing the wetness between her breasts and over one nipple. She is panting into his neck. “Take off your clothes.” He releases her and turns back to Sam. “You, too.”

 

Sam obeys, taking off his shirt and throwing it to the corner of the room. Dean licks his lips, as if he’s seeing his brother get undressed for him for the first time (and that is excactly what he did the first time, thinks Sam, and it makes him shake a little).

 

Dean closes the gap between them, one hand resting on Sam’s neck, pulling his head up towards him, his thumb playing at Sam’s lips. Sam bites at it lightly, the tiniest scrape of teeth, and licks over it, wanting more. Needing more. Something. Anything.

 

“Do you like it Sammy?” Dean asks, pushing his thumb into Sam’s mouth, letting him suck on it, taste her. “Long time since you been with a girl, think you can take it?”

 

“Fuck you,” Sam smiles, and bites Dean’s thumb. Hard.

 

“That’s the plan,” replies his brother, smiling because Sam just gave him the best answer he could have. He turns back to the girl, and she’s hasn’t got a stitch on now, and as Sam rolls on a condom, he takes a minute to really look at her. She’s pretty, with an amazing rack, pussy pink and open after the work of his brother’s fingers, her clit puffy and wet. He wants to touch her now, bounce her on his cock—she is so tiny compared to Dean, so easy to manhandle

Dean is holding her waist, and in one quick movement he hauls her into Sam’s lap. She spreads her legs, wide and obscene, welcoming him inside her wet heat. She comes right then and there- Sam can feel it—her inner walls tightening around him, and Sam fucks her through it, letting her ride him and the wave of her orgasm until she is completely drained, slumped over him and breathing heavily into his shoulder, her full breasts crushed into his chest.

 

“Oh god,” she gasps when he starts thrusting slowly, almost delicately, allowing her body to readjust. Dean is right there with them, hands splayed on her thighs, almost as if he is holding her in place for Sam, almost as if he wants to toss her aside and sit in his little brother’s lap. Instead, he lets one hand rest on her tummy, pulling her towards him so she is no longer panting into Sam’s neck, only to whisper, “He’s good, eh? Told you he would take care of you,” using his raspy bedroom voice.

 

Sam can feel his brother’s fingers—curious, invasive, probing—move over the girl’s clit and then down, wrapping around the base of Sam’s dick, still pumping inside her.

 

He knows Dean loves it, loves feeling how tight she is around him, feeling the sheer size of Sam inside her. He does it sometimes when he’s inside Sam, letting his hand wander to where their bodies are connected, whispering to Sam what it does to him, to feel his brother like this, inside and out.

 

Sam’s eyes roll back, he is so, so close, and his senses are on overload—the girl above him, Dean’s fingers around his dick and in his hair.

 

“Dean—” he chokess out, his voice a lot more desperate than he imagined. “I’m gonna—”

 

“No.” That’s Dean’s commanding tone. “Hold it.” And Sam gasps, the effort to keep his orgasm in check straining his entire body.

 

“I want you to come with me baby,” Dean’s voice is softer now, but the devilish glint is still there when he adds, “We gonna pull one more out of you, Y/N. Aren’t we Sammy?”

  

 

***

 

Reader’s POV

 

“Hold it,” you hear him say, and his hands on your hips feel like a searing brand. You know he’s not talking to you, but you still feel the urge to comply. There is no way to refuse that voice, that command. It’s a Big Brother voice, he is using his big brother voice on his little brother, and holy fucking mother of god, this shouldn’t turn you on so much. But it does, and you feel a new surge of arousal creep up your thighs. You can’t hear the rest of his sentence, you’re too busy losing yourself in the sensation of Dean’s hard length pressed firmly against your ass, _His name is Dean, Dean is the older one_ , _the older brother_ , your mind keeps reminding you, while Sam is still pulsing inside you, long and burning hot and so hard that it must hurt. Little brother Sammy is not little at all. And you want to curse your stupid mush of a brain for continually bringing up this fact. The brother thing. Jesus, you are going to hell for this. And you don’t care one bit.

 

Earlier, at the bar, when you were shamelessly flirting with Dean, you got the brother vibe from both of them. It wasn’t until you started getting irritated looks from across the pool table that you started questioning yourself. Hitting it off with guys that were taken isn’t exactly your MO. Dean quickly caught up with that, and when he turned to you and said, “Yeah, the huge dude over there is part of the package deal,” you just couldn’t pass on the opportunity. You only live once, after all.

 

But then you got to their motel room and heard Dean call Sam his little brother (See? I told you! Your nagging brain just won’t shut up!), and you nearly came in your panties. You have a brother kink, apparently.

 

You are shaken from your thoughts by a large hang gripping the base of the cock that’s still inside you. You’re so out of your mind with want that you have no idea whose hand it is. The thrusting stopped, and you are being firmly squeezed between two hard bodies. Your eyes are still shut when you feel calloused fingers— _Dean_ , you think, _it’s Dean’s fingers_ —gripping your ass and moving towards the cleft. He is caressing you, slowly moving a finger over your rim, and you can’t help but whimper as you feel the tip it enter you gently. Sam has a hand on your breast now, kneading it, letting his finger circle your nipple and then pinching it. You feel your pussy tighten around him, and you have no idea what to do next when you hear a purring in your ear.

 

“How do you want it to go sweetheart? You want me here while Sammy is still inside you?” And the probing finger in your back entrance pushes in deeper. “Want to suck on my fat dick while my brother is eating you out?” His other hand is moving over your clit, Sam is busy worth your other breast now, and you seriously question your ability to form words at the moment. You are usually not this helpless; your level of participation is usually a lot higher. Not now though. Apparently, all you can do right now all is nod and go along for the ride.

 

“Want to taste you,” someone says, and it takes you a second to realize that it was you. Dean lets out a low chuckle and removes himself from your back. “At your service, baby,” he says, and before you have time to mourn the loss of him pressing against you, he climbs on the bed, plants his knees on both sides of his brother’s torso, ass turned to him, blocking the view of Sam’s mesmerizing eyes and slightly gaped mouth. He is right there in front of you, cock hard and big, and thicker than his brother’s. You can’t wait.

 

You lean in, tentatively, and lick the tip of it, tasting precome and sweat, and it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you. “Yeah, that’s it,” he moans, as you take the head of his dick between your lips. You suck slowly, taking your time, your hands caressing his sharp hipbones, his impressive thighs, moving them to grip his butt. And _oh_.

 

Dean is panting heavily, as your hand meets with another hand, planted firmly on Dean’s left ass cheek. _Oh._

 

Sam got there first, and though you can’t see what he’s doing, you can feel he has both hands on his brother’s butt, holding him open. You move your hand away like it just touched fire and wrap it around Dean’s girth, covering the part you can’t fit in your mouth. The feeling that you are a guest here, that they let you in out of their own good will is stronger now. This is not about you; it’s about them. And sure they are doing everything to make you lose your mind bit by bit, but it’s their show. And as long as they let you in for a little while, you don’t mind at all.

 

“Jesus fuck ,Sammy,” Dean cries out, and it’s the closest you’ve heard him letting go of the reigns the whole evening. There are wet, slurping noises coming from behind Dean, and Sam’s angle in you has changed. You suck harder, and Dean lets out obscene sounds, alternating between you and his brother with “Yeah baby,” “More,” and “Fuck, your mouth,” and you have no idea who he’s referring to. The feel of him pushing hard into your mouth is amazing. He is so hot and so hard, and your lips are stretched so wide around him that in that second there’s nothing you want more than to feel him inside you.

 

“Wait.” You pull off, and by Dean’s sudden grimace you know it was too quick. “Sorry, I’ m sorry, I want to—”

 

Sam’s hand is back on your thigh, trying to assure you that it’s okay, it’s fine. You let out a breath, feeling self-conscious and wondering what on earth possessed you to come here with them. You lower your gaze, but Dean’s finger is under your chin, lifting it slowly, not letting you sink into your insecurities. “Hey hey, it’s okay doll. You call the shots.” He smiles than, and it’s different than how you’ve seen him smile until then. It’s reassuring and comforting and open. A big brother’s smile, you think, and your voice is slightly less shaky when you say, “I want you. In me.”

 

He lets out a laugh, and when you feel Sam moving to get out from under you, your thighs hold him in place. “No, stay. Want both of you, please?” You have no idea where this surge of courage came from, but you know what you want, and damn if you’re going to back off now.

“Y/N? You sure?” Sam sounds equally hesitant and turned on, and it’s Dean who replies,

“Don’t question the lady, Sam.” You never felt less like a lady your entire life, but you only nod in agreement, and lean down to kiss him, his chest vacated of his brother’s presence.

 

Dean moves behind you, and you can hear a condom being torn open. You want to watch, but the feel of Sam’s talented tongue in your mouth is overpowering. Dean’s hands land on your ass again, and you give in to the sensation for a minute. And it’s now or never. So you swallow what’s left of your inhibition (Pride? Dignity? Self respect? Whatever.) before you say “No.” Breath in, breath out. “Not…there—” you pray to god (and what kind of god will even hear you now, you think, with what you indulge in at the moment) that they will get it, that you won’t have to spell it out for them.

 

Sam’s hitched breath is proof enough for you that the message passed thorough. Dean laughs then, loud and filthy. “Atta girl, baby. Want me to get in that tight pussy of yours? Right next to Sammy?” You close your eyes again and nod.

 

“Dean—” Sam chokes out from under you, as his brother (and god you still can’t get enough of that thought) tilts you forward, making room, pressing you closer to Sam, your breasts on his broad chest.

 

“Jesus, so fucking tight,” you hear Dean mutter as he pushes a finger into you. It’s too much; he’s not gonna fit, and you are positive that you just volunteered (more like begged) to chew up more than you can swallow. But Dean’s hands are on your hips again, and he is tilting you forward even more so that your clit can rub against Sam’s pubic bone, and you feel so full, and so good, and you know your funny walk tomorrow will be so goddamn worth it.

 

The blunt tip of Dean’s dick is at your entrance now, and you let out a breath as he pushes in ever so slowly. You and Sam let out a breath simultaneously, his thumb rubbing your clit as his other hand fondles your nipple. Dean bites at your neck, and you know that they are trying to distract you from the burning sensation of the stretch. It’s working.

 

Dean pushes in more, just when you think that you can’t take another inch of him, and with one strong arm he pulls you to him, so that you are leaning on his chest, still sitting in his brother’s lap ( _Don’t sugarcoat it honey, sitting on his dick_. _You are sitting on his dick, you prude_. _On both their dicks_ , your brain provides). “Y/N,” he moans, and reaches out to draw slow circles around your clit. Your gaze drops, and you look down at the three of you, connected together in an almost impossible way. Sam catches your eye and smiles, feral and excited. He leans up on one elbow and kisses you then, while Dean’s finger continues its magic tricks on your clit.

 

“Move,” you gasp out. “Do it.” And they don’t need to be told twice.

 

“Dean, Dean, oh god, Dean,” Sam chokes out as he starts thrusting upward, and you can’t help but feel grateful that they let you share this with them, even if only for a little while. Someone wails, probably you, and Dean tightens his hold on your waist and leans forward. You have never been so full in your life. You have never been so turned on in your life, and Dean’s hoarse “Yeah Sammy, I can feel you baby, so fucking good,” in your ear only pushes you closer to the edge.

 

“That’s it princess, that’s it, taking both of us like a champ, good girl,” he growls, and the you can feel the telltale tingle of your orgasm starting to build up at the pit of your stomach.

 

Sam leans over you, and lock lips with his brother. It’s a brutal kiss, filled with tongue and teeth and gasped breaths, and you want to freeze that moment in time, to be able to stare at them forever, so gorgeous like this. And you don’t care this is your one way ticket to seven hells, because you will never feel bad about this, about being fortunate enough to take a part of it, about being given the privilege to witness them like this, closer than any other two people you’ve ever seen before.

 

You rock forward as they break the kiss, your pussy locked like a vice over them and Dean is back at your neck, moaning and groaning and sounding like a dying man. Under you, Sam is not doing any better. “I’m, I’m, fuck, shit, I’m—” you try to say, and incoherent as you are, they get you.

 

“Let go, let go, we’re right behind you,” Sam forces out, and you are comforted to see that it’s an actual physical strain for him to get the words out.

 

“C’mon girl, c’mon princess, wanna hear you,” Dean breaths in your ear, and reaches out to press the heel of his hand to your clit. And that’s it.

 

Your orgasm is the strongest you’ve ever had; your bones are melting and feel like they have turned to molten lava. Your legs shake involuntarily, and you let out a howl that can put to shame the annoying cat in heat at your parent’s house. Someone pushes in, someone moves out, you can’t tell, but you can hear Dean’s “Goddamn, fuck Sammy,” from behind, and feel the exact moment that he spills into the condom inside you. That must trigger something in Sam, because he follows with a loud “Fuck!” a second after. Dean’s heavy weight against your back knocks you onto Sam, and the three of you all lay together, like the world’s most obscene puppy pile, but no one moves.

 

After what feels like hours, but can’t be longer than five minutes, Dean pulls out. He kisses your shoulder, and wipes the wet bangs from your forehead. “You did good, kiddo,” he says, all warm and gentle, as he moves to plant a kiss on his brother’s lips. “You too, babe,” he half jokes, but you can see a glint of pride in Sam’s eyes, and you are washed by a sudden wave of empathy towards him. He made Dean happy. You made Dean happy. And it feels amazing.

 

You lift yourself from Sam’s lap then, and flop onto the bed beside him, not trusting your legs to carry you. “You okay?” he asks as he turns to look at you, his voice soft and hoarse.

 

“I’m fucking awesome,” you answer, and that’s the god honest truth.

 

He reaches out to caress your face, and he smiles, a huge, mega-watt smile, all white teeth and dimples. _Jesus_. Your lust-hazed brain didn’t even notice the dimples until now. He is absolutely gorgeous. You rise up, and kiss him on the lips. There is nothing passionate about it, it’s a thank you peck, it’s a goodbye. Because you know there will be no morning after with this, and you don’t want to overstay your welcome. Dean is looking at you both from the corner of the room, a fond smile on his face, and you know he gets it. And appreciates it. You can even sense a trace of relief cross his eyes, though it might just be remnants of post orgasmic bliss.

 

***

 

There are no parting words. When you exit their shower, Dean is sprawled on his back on the bad, his younger brother tucked safely at his side. Sam is asleep, and Dean’s fingers are running through his hair, and you know that anything you say now will ruin the moment. Their moment.

So you pick up your shoes from the floor, and when Dean raises his head to look at you with a questioning gaze, you press your palms together, Eastern Style, and bow your head slightly.

He smiles at you, and waves his free hand in a mock salute.

 

The last thing that crosses your mind as you wait for the taxi outside their motel room, is that heaven is way overrated.


End file.
